An Eye for an Eye, A Tooth for a Tooth, A Child for a Child
by Paula UK
Summary: Someone is out for revenge for the death of his sister.
1. Chapter 1

**This story is for my friend, Kristy, whose idea this was. I hope I've done it justice. It has not been beta'd so any and all mistakes are mine. **

**I just want to warn you that updates will not come as quickly as my previous story...that was complete before I started to post it and I just did last-minute editing. This story is not yet finished...I know where I want to go but am not certain of the path. I _will_ get there so please bear with me.**

Chapter 1

Milton Crosby gazed at the creased photograph, his vision blurred by tears. He gently rubbed the little girl's face with his thumb as he drew in shuddering breaths, trying to calm himself down.

He allowed the anger to take him over, welcoming the thoughts of vengeance that filled his whole being.

It was like this every year on the anniversaries; her birthday, Christmas...her death. But this year was different. This year he was in a position to do something about it.

He had recently been released from Cabrillo State Mental Hospital after 18 months and was quietly settling back into the community. A job had been procured for him in a print shop with a small apartment above. Things should have been looking good but the past festered, turning his thoughts dark.

The photograph showed a tall black man staring at the camera with spaced-out eyes. He held a small girl in one arm who happily displayed a gap-toothed smile. The man's other arm was slung around the shoulders of a lanky pre-teen.

Milton stared at his 12 year old self, feeling bitterness at the hand life had dealt him. Not long after the photo had been taken, his father had been killed by two cops...'resisting arrest' they said.

Everything had gone wrong after that. Milton had always been a 'difficult boy' but after his father's death he had run wild. As their mother had abandoned them not long after his little sister, Emily's, third birthday, the children were now alone in the world. They had been separated and put in different foster homes. Emily had settled well with her foster family and the authorities were trying to find adoptive parents for her but then tragedy had struck. A carelessly discarded cigarette had sparked a fire that engulfed the house and all the occupants, leaving Milton totally alone.

He ran away countless times and eventually found himself running drugs for the same man his father had worked for. His school attendance had always been sporadic but it swiftly became non-existent.

He had always had a fascination with fire and had been setting small fires in trash cans from an early age. This had escalated after Emily's death as he began to desire bigger and bigger fires to satisfy his craving.

At nineteen years of age he found himself in prison after being caught at the scene of a fire he had set in a disused building. This set the tone for the next three years with spells in and out of prison for various drug or fire-setting offences and eventually he was committed to Cabrillo State in the hope that a remedy would be found for his obsession.

Milton quickly learned to play the system and after a year and a half he was pronounced 'cured' and released back into the community he had terrorised.

His obsession had shifted focus now. Although he still flirted with fire-setting, he was now intent upon getting revenge for the death of his little sister. Unable, or unwilling, to accept it for the tragic accident it was, he began to search for the cops who had taken away his father and removed the only stability in his life. In Milton's mind they were responsible for Emily's death and he was determined to make them pay.

Milton settled into his new life, hiding his fixation behind the friendly mask he displayed to the print-shop customers and his neighbours. But secretly he was making enquiries about the cops who had destroyed his life. He looked forward to watching their homes burn, their families die like Emily.

However he learned that one of the cops was already dead, killed on the orders of a mobster, hung on a meat-hook so he heard. Thwarted of his revenge he redoubled his efforts to track down the man's partner.

He discovered that he was now a married man with two children of his own, a boy and a girl who was about the age Emily had been when she died. In fact she looked a little like the Emily he remembered and that planted a seed in Milton's mind. He would take the cop's daughter to be his new Emily. Then _he_ would know how Milton had felt all those years ago, robbed of a precious little girl.

He smiled at the photo. "Soon," he whispered. "Soon we'll be together again, Emily."

And so he began to formulate a plan. He took to driving past the cop's house at various times of night and day. He followed the family to church and back every Sunday. He followed the children and their mother on a variety of shopping trips. He even followed the school bus.

He printed hundreds of leaflets and began to drop them at all the houses in the street...'An eye for an eye' they said in bold print. Most of them ended up in the trash but Milton didn't mind. His message was being delivered and that was all that mattered to him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read the opening chapter. And special thanks to those of you who have submitted a review...I love reading your opinions. I hope you enjoy this chapter...at last Starsky and Hutch put in an appearance (although Hutch probably wishes he'd stayed in bed!)**

Chapter 2

Detective Sergeant David Starsky nudged the door open with his hip and carefully reversed into the squad room, both hands full of take-out cartons and two cups of coffee. He hummed a Christmas carol under his breath as he deftly wove around desks, chairs, fellow officers and villains to the desk he shared with his partner, Ken 'Hutch' Hutchinson.

Hutch was sitting at his side of the desk, apparently engrossed in the report he was typing.

Starsky knew better. He knew this was pay back for laughing at Hutch earlier that morning.

"Hey, Hutch. You wanna grab your coffee?"

Hutch never even looked up. "Just put it down please, Starsk," he said quietly, continuing to laboriously two-finger type.

Starsky grimaced. He didn't like being at odds with Hutch but was it his fault he could see the funny side and Hutch couldn't? "I'm sure I wouldn't be sulking if it was me," he thought.

They had been chasing a suspected car thief for about ten blocks when he suddenly stomped on his brakes and took off on foot across the park. Hutch was out of the car in pursuit in the blink of an eye while Starsky drove to the other side of the park to cut him off. Having been alerted by the call for back up, a patrol car approached from the opposite direction, pulling up at the same time time as Starsky, the two cars nose to nose.

The uniformed officers and Starsky piled out of their respective vehicles and began to race across the grass towards two struggling figures. As they drew nearer, the bulkier of the two broke free, handcuffs dangling from one wrist, and violently shoved the other. He turned to resume his flight but ran straight into Starsky and the two patrolmen. Starsky barely broke step as he ensured the uniformed officers had the felon under control and sped on to check on his partner.

Hutch meanwhile had stumbled over a tree stump, arms windmilling as he attempted to stay on his feet. His efforts were in vain however as he landed on his butt in the shallow water of the children's paddling pool.

Starsky slithered to a stop and bent over with his hands on his knees. He could not control the laughter which overtook him, leaving him breathless and with tears streaming down his face.

Hutch flushed with embarrassment which made Starsky giggle all the more. He knew he had overdone it when Hutch ignored his outstretched hand in favour of struggling out of the pool by himself. Starsky supposed he should be grateful Hutch hadn't taken his hand and pulled him in there as well.

Hutch sloshed ahead of him to the Torino with as much dignity as he could manage. He shot him a glare when Starsky insisted on putting a blanket on the seat before he got in, and sat in icy silence all the way to headquarters where he headed to the locker room to dry off and change, still studiously ignoring his partner.

"I'll go get lunch hey, Hutch? Hutch?"

No answer was forthcoming, so Starsky went to one of their favourite haunts to buy a peace offering.

He heaved a sigh. He hated it when Hutch gave him the silent treatment. Somehow he managed to deposit their lunch on the desk without dropping or spilling anything. Checking the contents, he pushed one container towards Hutch and one of the coffee cups.

"C'mon, Hutch. Ya gotta admit it was funny." Starsky's lips twitched as he tried to stifle the grin that threatened to break out. He quickly schooled his features into what he hoped was a serious expression when Hutch looked up at last and stared at him from under his brows.

"Next time _I_ drive, _you_ run."

Starsky, eager to make peace with Hutch, would have agreed to almost anything. He allowed his control to relax and the grin spread across his face. "Sure, Hutch. Whatever you say."

He settled down happily to eat his lunch while Hutch sat back from the typewriter to investigate what his partner had bought for him, opening the container as though the contents might leap out and seize him by the throat. Starsky watched him out of the corner of his eye and swallowed down the annoyance he felt at Hutch's elaborate performance, realising that he needed this small victory of sorts to begin restoring the equilibrium in their relationship. Starsky knew he had probably pushed Hutch as far as he could for one day if he ever wanted his friend to talk to him again.

Hutch glanced at him across the desk. "Thanks, Starsk."

Starsky grinned cheerfully as his world righted itself again. He munched contentedly on his own lunch and chugged down his coffee before leaning back in his chair until it teetered on two legs, propping his feet on the desk and beginning to hum again. Hutch looked across, a small frown between his eyes.

"Uh oh," Starsky thought. He stopped abruptly and rushed into the silence. "You all set for our shopping trip tomorrow, Hutch?"

The frown deepened momentarily and Starsky thought he'd said the wrong thing again, but then Hutch's face cleared and he smiled. "Yeah. I guess it'll be fun."

"I can't wait," Starsky enthused. "I wonder what we should buy for Dobey?"

"I think maybe you should let Rosie decide."

Starsky's face fell but he soon brightened. "But we can give her some ideas..." His voice trailed away as he caught the expression on Hutch's face. Dropping his feet to the floor, righting the chair in the process, he turned slowly to see the captain standing in the doorway to his office.

"Good afternoon, Captain..." he began.

"Don't you 'good afternoon' me, Starsky!" Dobey barked. "Don't you have work to be getting on with?"

Starsky glanced towards the small stack of files on his side of the desk. "Yessir."

"Then I suggest you get on with it or you'll have to come in tomorrow to finish it."

Starsky gulped, having no wish to go into work on his day off, especially when he and Hutch had made plans. "I'll get right on it, sir."

"That goes for you too, Hutchinson." Dobey's door closed with a loud 'snick'.

Starsky looked at his now scowling partner and cursed inwardly. All his hard work to win round his friend undone in an instant.

"C'mon, buddy. Just a couple of hours and we'll be out of here."

Hutch raised his eyebrows giving Starsky a disbelieving look, then turned back to the report he'd been typing earlier.

Huffing a frustrated breath, Starsky pulled his files towards him and opened the top one.

Three and a half hours later, they countersigned the final reports, filed them away and left the building before Dobey could find anything else for them to do.

Starsky slung an arm around Hutch's shoulders as they walked towards the car. "C'mon, buddy. Let's go to Huggy's and relax."

For a moment he thought Hutch was going to refuse but then he gave him a small smile. "Okay, Starsk. But you're paying."

"Sure thing. Let's go."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hmm. My chapters seem to be rather unbalanced in length! I hope you enjoy this longer one. Thank you for reading.**

Chapter 3

The following morning dawned wet and cool but nothing could dampen Rosie Dobey's excitement. She could hardly eat any of her breakfast and was out of her seat as soon as she was allowed, to watch out for the arrival of her 'uncles'.

As soon as the car pulled up outside, she ran to the door. "They're here! They're here!"

Her mother, Edith, opened the door and Rosie flung herself into the taller man's waiting arms. She planted a kiss on his cheek. "Hi, Uncle Ken."

"Hi, munchkin. Are you ready to go?"

Rosie wriggled free. "I just need my coat and purse," she said. "C'mon, Uncle Dave." Grabbing his hand, she pulled the other man inside.

They giggled together as they wrestled Rosie's arms into the sleeves of her coat but she endeavoured to listen to the grown-up's conversation at the same time.

"Thank you for this, Hutch," her mother was saying.

"It's our pleasure, Edith. I think Starsky has been looking forward to this almost as much as Rosie!"

Her daddy lumbered through to join them. "I'm making you responsible, Hutchinson," he said in a gruff voice.

"Huh! Thanks, Cap," Rosie could hear the smile in Uncle Ken's voice. "I know I'm taking two kids Christmas shopping."

"And don't let him talk her into buying anything ridiculous."

"I'll try, sir, but you know what he's like."

"Unfortunately I do. Just try to keep him in line."

"I've got six dollars to spend," Rosie interrupted. She didn't want her daddy getting mad at her uncles or he might not let her go out with them. "Two dollars each for mommy and daddy and Cal."

"Wow! We can get something really good. And then you can help me choose something for Hutch," said Uncle Dave, smiling at her with those twinkly eyes she loved so much. "Let's go!"

On their way to the car Rosie looked in the mailbox and gave her daddy the letters.

"Here's another one of those papers, mommy." Rosie read it aloud carefully. "'A tooth for a tooth'. That's from the Bible too, isn't it?"

"That's right, sweetheart. I wonder why someone keeps posting them in our mailbox?"

Her mother took the paper and folded it in half and half again while Rosie climbed into the back seat of the car.

In a flurry of farewells Rosie and her uncles drove away, Rosie waving furiously until her parents were out of sight.

The journey went too quickly for Rosie as she and Uncle Dave sang Christmas carols all the way. Uncle Ken pulled a cross face but Rosie didn't believe he was really mad, his lips kept smiling although he looked like he was pretending not to and his eyes sparkled nearly as much as Uncle Dave's.

Rosie could barely contain her excitement as they trailed from shop to shop. It was so hard to choose but at last she had a flowery brooch set with blue and purple stones for her mommy, a book about basketball for Cal and a garish tie for her daddy that she and Uncle Dave loved. Uncle Ken said daddy wouldn't like it but Rosie loved all the bright colours so that was that.

They had stopped off for lunch earlier and now Rosie was waiting with Uncle Ken while Uncle Dave stood in line to pay for something. She hoped he wouldn't be long. Her tummy was telling her it was time to go home.

Rosie held onto Uncle Ken's hand as what felt like the entire population of Bay City swirled around them. Suddenly she felt his hand jerk and then slip out of hers. As she looked up to see what was wrong, another hand grabbed hers and pulled her away.

"Uncle Ken?"

His eyes met hers and she saw pain in them. She thought he looked scared too. He began to run after her and the man who was dragging her away.

Rosie felt frozen with fear, her feet stumbling as the man took her further and further away from her uncles. She knew Uncle Ken was a fast runner but he seemed to be moving more and more slowly and he was getting left behind. She tried to shout out but could make no sound with a throat tight with terror.

She fell and the man picked her up roughly. The mass of people before them parted as the man pushed and shoved them aside. Rosie looked over his shoulder and watched as Uncle Ken fell and disappeared in the crowd. She couldn't see Uncle Dave at all.

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Milton couldn't believe his good fortune. He had just finished delivering more leaflets down the cop's street and as he passed the cop's house on his way home, he saw 'Emily' getting into a car with two white men. A parking space opened up before him and he quickly swung into it. He watched the cop and his wife waving and then go back inside. He hurriedly posted his 'special' leaflet into their mailbox, the one he'd made especially for the cop, before setting off in pursuit of the red and white car containing his prey. It was easy to follow the car, the fancy paint job making it stand out from the other vehicles.

Milton was able to blend in with the crowd as he trailed 'Emily' and her companions around the bustling shops. He was even able to grab something to eat when they stopped for a burger.

At last the two men separated and Milton realised he finally had an opportunity to free his sister and take her home. He nervously fingered the knife in his pocket as he approached 'Emily' and the tall blond holding her hand.

He had never before set out to deliberately hurt someone but knew he had no choice in this instance. The man would not let him simply take 'Emily' away, so he would have to do it by force.

He carefully worked his way closer until he was able to hear the child's chattering and the replies of the man accompanying her.

Without giving himself time to back out, Milton pulled the knife he always carried from his pocket, unwound the towel he had wrapped around the blade and plunged it into the man's side. He heard him give a little 'Oof' and then pulled out the knife, feeling it slippery with the blond's blood.

Milton grabbed 'Emily''s hand and began to run, dragging her through the crowd towards the exit. The little girl stumbled and fell so he scooped her up into his arms and slowed his pace to a brisk walk, trying not to draw attention to himself.

Reaching his car he struggled to unlock the door with his blood-slicked fingers. He wiped his hand down his thigh, fighting to maintain his hold of the now struggling child. He gripped her more tightly as she began to cry loudly.

He bared his teeth in what he hoped looked like a smile as he noticed an elderly woman watching them.

"She wants everything in the shop," he said.

"Huh! Kids today!" the woman replied. "Don't know when they're well off." She hobbled away, laden with several large bags.

At last the door opened and he forced 'Emily' in ahead of him, pushing her past the steering wheel into the passenger's seat.

"Shut up!" he growled. "Shut up!"

Slamming the door, he started the engine and revved it loudly before lurching into the flow of traffic, unaware the woman was still watching them.

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Starsky stood in line impatiently shifting from one foot to the other. Much as he loved Christmas, he had to admit that they'd done enough for one day. He was sure Rosie had enjoyed herself and even Hutch had entered into the spirit but now he was looking forward to taking Rosie home and sampling some of Edith Dobey's baking.

A shrill scream alerted his cop senses. He looked across to Hutch but couldn't see him.

"That's funny," he thought. "Where've they gone."

He could see a small crowd gathering and abandoned his place in the queue to go see what was happening. Pulling out his badge, he forced his way through the melee but was totally unprepared for the sight that met his eyes.

Hutch lay on the floor with a beautiful African woman beside him.

"It's all right, my darling," she was crooning. "Someone's going to call for an ambulance."

Starsky crashed to his knees beside her. "Hutch! Hutch!" He scanned the crowd quickly then turned back to his partner.

"Hutch! Where's Rosie?"

Then he noticed the blood staining Hutch's shirt and pants. He realised the woman was attempting to apply pressure to a wound in Hutch's side.

"Oh my God, Hutch! What happened?"

Hutch struggled to sit up but more blood oozed out between the woman's fingers.

"Did you see what happened? He had a little girl with him...a little black girl, about so high." He estimated Rosie's height with his hand.

The woman shook her head. "Sorry. I saw a man pulling a child through the crowd and your friend seemed to be chasing him. Then he collapsed here."

Starsky didn't think his heart could beat any faster but it clicked up another gear. He needed to get his 'cop head' on quickly. Looking around at the crowd he said "Has anyone called an ambulance and the cops?"

"Yes, sir," a frightened voice answered. Starsky looked up at the speaker, a young man in the store's uniform who looked like he should still be in school. Starsky gave a curt nod of thanks then turned back to the good samaritan who was helping Hutch.

"Are you okay?"

She gave a small smile and a nod but Starsky could see it was an effort and he noted the tear that slid down her cheek. "Want me to take over?"

"No, I'm fine. You do what you have to do." She nodded towards the badge in his hand.

Starsky spared a few seconds to visually check his partner. Hutch's eyes were dulled by pain and Starsky judged that he was only semi-conscious but Starsky knew he had to do his job and find Rosie.

He rested a hand on the woman's shoulder, whispering "Thank you." Then he stood to scan the crowd but there was no sign of Rosie or the man Hutch had allegedly been pursuing.

It was with relief that he saw an ambulance crew and two uniformed officers heading their way, ushered by a dumpy little man in an ill-fitting suit. Starsky flashed his badge at them and addressed the paramedics.

"That's my partner and this lady's been helping him. She can tell you better than I can what happened."

Much as it hurt him, he knew his priority was Rosie's whereabouts and Hutch was in good hands. He turned to the patrolmen.

"What happened, Sergeant?" the older of the two asked.

"I'm not sure, Mike. It's our day off and we'd brought Captain Dobey's daughter Christmas shopping." He scanned the store once more before his eyes settled again on Hutch and the activity around him. "I don't know where she is."

He could feel panic beginning to build within him and pushed it firmly down.

"Call this in, will ya. We need to get a team down here immediately."

Showing his badge once more, he approached the suited man who was hovering near where Hutch lay.

"Sir? I'm Detective Sergeant Starsky. Are you the manager?"

The man dragged his eyes away from the paramedics and glanced at Starsky.

"Yes, I'm the floor manager," he said as his eyes slid back to the activity on the floor.

"We need to close the store now."

"I can't do that. The store is full of customers."

"And a lot of those customers are potential witnesses to a crime. A child is missing and I believe she's been abducted. And also a police officer has been assaulted." Starsky's eyes turned glacial as he glared at the smaller man. "I'm not asking you, I'm telling you to close the store."

The manager stepped back from the angry cop. "But..."

"Fine. I'll do it myself."

Starsky marched to the nearest counter and picked up the phone there. "What number for security?" he barked at the hapless girl behind the till.

While he waited for someone to pick up, he watched the paramedics worriedly. Their movements were confident and unhurried but he was concerned about the amount of blood his partner had lost. He looked pale and shocky and now lay prone on the floor.

"Security," said a voice in his ear.

"My name is Detective Sergeant Starsky, Bay City PD. There is an incident on the second floor and I need you to close the store now. Seal all exits and wait for police back-up to arrive."

"Yes, sir," came the prompt reply.

As Starsky hung up, the speakers which had been piping Christmas music into the store, blared out. "All security personnel, code red. Repeat code red. This is not a drill. Report to your designated station immediately. All security personnel, code red."

Starsky was impressed by the swift response to his alert but feared it would be too little too late. Precious time had been lost between Rosie's disappearance and the store being sealed.

The patrolman, Mike, reappeared at Starsky's side. "Very slick security operation here, sarge. I recognised a couple of ex-cops on the doors. Reinforcements are on the way and someone's going to see the Dobeys. How's Hutch?"

"He's lost a lotta blood." Starsky's eyes were once again drawn to his partner. Hutch was now half reclined in a wheelchair, beads of sweat on his face, lines of pain etched around his mouth and eyes. Starsky tore his gaze away, knowing that he was the senior officer at the scene and needed to get the investigation under way.

Turning to the floor manager, he asked to use the man's office to begin interviewing witnesses. Mike, his partner and two recently arrived officers helped Starsky to corral the shoppers in one area as Hutch was wheeled away towards the elevator. Starsky's eyes followed his partner even as he herded shoppers together.

As the elevator doors opened he was relieved to see Lieutenant Oliver Thomas arrive on scene. He was about Starsky's height but carried more weight and was ten years or so older. His brown hair was cut short and neat and he sported a trim moustache. Although his black suit was a little rumpled, his shoes shone and his tie was knotted with precision.

Of all the officers who could have been assigned to the case, Starsky was glad it was Ollie Thomas. He knew both he and Hutch could work with and for the man.

"Afternoon, Starsky. Want to fill me in?" Starsky gathered his thoughts then told Lt Thomas what he knew and what had been done so far.

The lieutenant nodded as he listened. "Okay, Starsky. I've got officers en route to take statements and an APB is out on Rosie Dobey. Go check on your partner and I'll see you back at headquarters in..." a glance at his left wrist "...three hours."

Before leaving, Starsky went over to the woman who had helped Hutch. She sat slightly apart from the others, her head bowed, her bloodied hands clasped in front of her. Starsky could see her trembling. He crouched beside her.

"I just want to say thank you," he said gently.

She raised her head to look at him with teary eyes. "You're welcome," she whispered.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned that she was obviously upset and yet no one was looking after her. She nodded and offered a tremulous smile.

"I'm fine. I've learned a bit of first aid but never really expected to need to use it. Is your friend going to be all right?"

"I'm off to the hospital now but I'm sure he'll be fine. Thanks to you." He watched her cheeks colour prettily. "Lt Thomas is taking over here. He'll want a statement from you...uh...sorry, I don't know your name?"

"Angelica. Angelica Bradley. My friends call me Angel."

"Well you were certainly our angel today, Angelica." He pulled a business card from his pocket and scribbled on the back. "This is me, Dave Starsky, and my partner is Ken Hutchinson. You can reach either of us on that number if you need us."

Standing up he attracted the Lieutenant's attention. "Sir, this is Angelica Bradley, the lady who helped Hutch. Would you look after her please while I go to the hospital?"

With an encouraging smile, Starsky walked briskly from the store to his car, eager to get to the hospital to check on Hutch for himself.


	4. Chapter 4

**I am so sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. Remind me not to start posting a story before I've finished writing it next time! I've been trying to edit this chapter while at the same time continuing with the story about two chapters ahead, plus real life intruding. Enough excuses...I hope you enjoy it and apologies again.**

Chapter 4

Rosie Dobey didn't know what to do. Or rather she knew what to do but wasn't sure how. Her mommy and daddy had told her never to go with strangers. But now a stranger had hurt Uncle Ken and taken her away. She knew she had to get away but he kept watching her.

He had shoved her into his car and driven across town. When he stopped at a red light she tried to get out and run away, but the door was locked and before she could open it, the light turned green.

Now she was alone with the stranger in a dingy little room above a shop. She sat in a chair, knees drawn tight to her chest as she watched the man with wide brown eyes.

"You want something to eat, Emily?" he asked. "I got your favourite."

"I'm not Emily," she said in a wobbly voice. "I'm Rosie. And I want my mommy."

"Emily is your real name. Don't you remember?"

Rosie's eyes filled with tears and her lower lip trembled. "I'm not Emily."

"Yes, you are. I'm Milton Crosby and you're my little sister, Emily."

"I'm not!" Rosie began to wail. "I'm Rosie Dobey and I want my mommy!"

Milton crossed the room in four big strides. Rosie thought he was going to hit her, his face was so angry. She took a huge breath to try to stop herself crying and watched him fearfully.

Milton shuddered to a halt, breathing heavily. "I'm sorry, Emily," he whispered. "Don't be scared. I got your favourite chips and soda."

Rosie uncurled a little so she could see. The man smiled at her and pointed to the table. "See?"

Rosie nodded shyly. "Mommy doesn't let me have those 'less I've been 'specially good."

"Well we won't tell her then. It'll be our little secret."

Rosie uncurled a little more. "Have you got cookies?"

"No, I ain't got cookies! You think I'm made of money?"

Rosie shrank back at the anger in his voice. "Sorry," she squeaked, tears starting to well up again. "I'm sorry."

Milton grunted and grasped Rosie's arm. She began to struggle but he scooped her up and dumped her on the chair at the table.

Her breath whooshed out of her at the rough treatment. She rubbed her arm and tears rolled silently down her face as she watched him pacing the room. This man was really scary and she hoped Uncle Ken and Uncle Dave would come and rescue her soon. Then she remembered seeing her Uncle Ken falling down hurt and she cried all the more.

"For God's sake, stop that noise! STOP IT! NOW!"

Milton thrust his face into Rosie's and she felt his spit on her cheek. He spun away and resumed his pacing. After three or four circuits Milton threw himself into a chair.

Rosie watched him apprehensively but gradually relaxed as it became clear the man was settled for now. She reached for the can of soda. The tab was really hard but she didn't dare ask the man to help her. So she put it back and picked up the potato chips instead. They didn't taste very nice but she was hungry so she ate them quickly.

Having finished, she didn't dare move. She sat as still and as quiet as she had ever sat before and warily watched the man.

He became aware of her scrutiny. "Finished?" he asked in a quieter voice. Rosie nodded jerkily. "Wanna watch TV?"

"Um...mommy doesn't..."

"Do. You. Want. To. Watch. TV?"

"Yes please," she whispered sliding down from the table and moving to the chair she had occupied before.

"We're gonna have so much fun, Emily. It'll be just like it used to be."

Unsure how to respond and not wanting to anger him again, Rosie said nothing.

Milton flicked through the channels until he found a cartoon.

"Right, Emily. I gotta go to work for a bit. I'm just downstairs so if you want me, bang on the floor and I'll be right up. Won't be long."

Giving her a rough hug he left the room, carefully locking the door behind him. Rosie let out a quivery breath.

When it became clear that he had really left, she clambered to her feet and tiptoed around the small apartment hoping to find a way out. However the windows were small and grimy and Rosie knew she couldn't get out that way or attract anyone's attention.

She found and used the bathroom and peeped into the dark bedroom. Then she slumped back into the chair in front of the television, tears once again sliding down her face.

She wanted her mommy and daddy, and her big brother, Cal. She wanted Uncle Dave and Uncle Ken and worried about how badly Uncle Ken was hurt.

Eventually she fell asleep, curled up in the chair, and that was how Milton found her when he came up from the shop.

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When Starsky arrived at the hospital, he was pleased to see staff who knew him and Hutch from previous visits. He quickly filled in the necessary forms and just as he was finishing, a nurse arrived to take him through to the Emergency Room.

He found Hutch propped up on a bed, minus his shirt and with a large, white dressing showing starkly against his tanned skin.

"Dr Franklin," Starsky said, shaking the hand of the tall, bespectacled man who had turned from his inspection of the bags of blood and clear liquid which were dripping steadily into the intravenous lines.

"Detective Starsky. We must stop meeting like this," he smiled.

Starsky returned the smile then turned to Hutch. "You okay?"

Hutch gave a curt nod and Starsky refrained from asking the questions he wanted to. Turning back to the doctor he asked "What's the verdict, doc?"

"Detective Hutchinson has been very lucky. Although the wound is deep and required stitches, the blade missed anything vital. We're just replacing lost fluids and starting him on antibiotics. I want to keep him in overnight but your partner is as stubborn as you and refuses."

"I'll be fine, doc," Hutch cut in. "I know the drill and Starsky here will keep an eye on me."

"I'm prepared to release him to your care, Detective Starsky, so long as he gets plenty of rest."

Starsky knew that that Hutch would not rest while Rosie was missing and was equally certain that he would simply walk out whether Starsky or Franklin agreed or not.

"Of course, doc. I'll make sure he rests."

Starsky shot Hutch a warning glance as Dr Franklin said, "He needs to stay here while the drips run through. Why don't you run and get a change of clothes for him? We should be done here in a couple of hours or so."

"I wish you wouldn't talk about me as if I wasn't here," Hutch grumbled, earning him a small smile from the doctor.

"I wish it was always so simple when you two come to see us. I have other patients to see, Ken. I'll be back soon to check on you."

"Thanks, doc," said Hutch as Franklin turned to go.

"Yeah. Thanks, doc," Starsky echoed.

As the curtain closed behind the doctor, Starsky turned to Hutch.

"What happened, buddy?" he asked quietly.

"I don't really know. We were standing waiting for you when I felt a pain in my side, like someone punched me. Rosie let go of my hand...or I let go of hers...I don't know..." Hutch's voice tailed away and he stared into the distance as though watching the incident replay on a screen. Starsky waited for him to continue.

"I saw this tall black guy dragging her away and I started to run after them but then... Where is she, Starsk? Did you catch him? Is she okay?"

Starsky grimaced and shook his head. "They were already gone before I got to you."

"Then what are you doing here?" Hutch yelled beginning to sit up. "What am I doing lying here? We gotta get out there, Starsky!"

"Whoa! Slow down, Blondie. You're not goin' anywhere till I've got your clean clothes and Doctor F okay's it."

Hutch looked like he was about to argue but Starsky silenced him. "Ollie Thomas has a team at the store interviewing all the witnesses and there's an APB out on Rosie. There's nothing we can do that's not being done already. I'll get Huggy on it too. Give me a description of this guy and I'll radio it in while I go get your clothes."

Hutch could obviously see the sense in this as he subsided back onto the bed with a sigh.

"Similar height and build to Huggy," he said closing his eyes. "Um...faded blue jeans, they didn't fit too well, looked old and well worn. Black sneakers. Big, baggy, hooded windcheater...dark blue with white stripes round the cuffs. That looked old too. Wears his hair real short."

He reopened his eyes. "Starsk, we've _got_ to find her...we've _got _to. There's no telling what he's doing to her."

Starsky swallowed and squeezed Hutch's arm. "We will, Hutch. We will. Now get some rest while I go get your stuff."

The two detectives locked eyes both reading the guilt and sadness in the other's, yet at the same time giving each other strength and support. Starsky gave a short nod then roughly pushed his way through the curtains and marched back to his car. Throwing himself in, he put both hands through his hair and tugged at his curls in frustration. He grabbed the radio and called in Hutch's description of the kidnapper before firing up the Torino and peeling out of the parking lot.


End file.
